From Slave to King: My Rebate System Built Me a Kingdom With Beauties!-Chapter 206: Cerberus? [FIXED!]

Byung was running and running through the endless maze of identical trees, his enhanced body carrying him faster than should have been possible for someone his size. His lungs burned despite his superior endurance, his legs screamed for rest, but he couldn’t stop. Stopping meant death in this cursed place where threats lurked behind every shadow.

But something was changing. As he ran, fragments of his lost memory began to surface like debris floating up from the depths of a dark ocean. They didn’t connect, didn’t form coherent pictures or narratives, but they were there—flashes of faces he should know, echoes of conversations he should remember, sensations of power and purpose that felt intimately familiar yet frustratingly out of reach.

A flash: Green eyes staring into his with warmth and something deeper. "Maui."

Another fragment: A massive scarred face, red eyes, silence that communicated more than words. "Grishka."

More pieces: Tiny figures looking up at him with reverence. A mine. A settlement. *Home.*

The memories were returning, slowly, painfully, like ice melting one drop at a time. But they weren’t organizing themselves into anything useful yet, just disconnected moments that left him more confused than enlightened.

Byung slowed his pace slightly, his tactical mind beginning to analyze his situation more carefully. He noticed there was something strange about this place beyond just the disorienting sameness. There was something watching him, some vast presence that observed his every move with attention that felt both alien and oddly familiar.

It wasn’t the hostile attention of a predator stalking prey. It was more like... awareness. Consciousness. As if the forest itself was alive and thinking, processing his existence within its boundaries.

Byung thought to himself about the nature of this prison as more clarity returned to his fractured mind. The memory loss mustn’t be permanent. It couldn’t be. That would make a lot more sense when he considered the purpose of a place like this.

However, this was strictly Byung’s assumption.

A prison where memories were completely and permanently erased would be pointless, wouldn’t it? The cruelty wasn’t in forgetting—the real torture was in slowly remembering while still being trapped, unable to escape despite knowing what you’d lost. The memories returning just enough to make you suffer, to make you understand the magnitude of what had been taken, but not enough to give you the tools to break free.

That was true punishment. That was elegant cruelty in its most refined form.

The panic that had set in earlier when he’d first arrived, when his mind had been empty and terrified, had dissipated now. Byung was calmer, more centered, more like himself even if he couldn’t fully remember who "himself" was yet. His breathing had steadied, his movements had become more purposeful rather than desperate flight.

He thought about the human he had killed recently, the massive warrior whose head he’d literally exploded with a single punch. Byung felt no remorse despite this person being closer to who he was in terms of species. They were both prisoners in this cursed place, both victims of circumstances beyond their control.

But ultimately, it was either Byung or the man. There had been no room for mercy, no possibility of negotiation. Byung had chosen himself and would absolutely do it again without hesitation. Survival wasn’t about fairness or justice—it was about making the hard choices and living with the consequences.

That realization told him something important about himself: he was pragmatic, ruthless when necessary, willing to do whatever it took to continue existing.

Byung sensed multiple presences coming towards his location from different directions, converging on him like he’d become a beacon that drew every dangerous creature in the forest straight to his position. The sensation was clear and unmistakable through his enhanced senses—at least five distinct threats approaching, maybe more beyond his current range of detection.

He simply chuckled at the absurdity of it. The sound was dark, almost manic, echoing through the silent forest. Of course this place had marked him somehow, made him a target for everything trapped within these boundaries.

But that was fine. He would either leave this place a stronger man than he was before entering—and he had the sense he’d been formidable already—or he would die trying. There was no middle ground, no comfortable compromise. Just victory or death.

Those were terms Byung could accept.

The first of the converging threats revealed itself moments later, and Byung’s eyes widened despite his newfound calm. It was a dog—if something could still be called a dog when it possessed three massive heads, each one the size of a full-grown orc, attached to a body as large as an elephant. The creature’s fur was matted and dark, its multiple sets of eyes glowing with predatory intelligence, its three mouths filled with teeth designed to crush bone and tear flesh.

Byung found himself thinking, almost academically, about how he’d always wondered why such creatures didn’t exist in the world he knew despite magic being demonstrably present. Magic could do incredible things—teleportation, energy manipulation, reality-bending effects—so why weren’t there more fantastical beasts roaming around?

This must be why. They existed, but they’d been locked away, separated from the normal world. They must be from the dark continent that he’d heard mentioned in one of his fragmentary memories. The place beyond the barrier where nightmares were real and the laws of nature bent to accommodate impossibilities.

Byung smirked despite the mortal danger before him. The dark continent sounded like a place he would genuinely enjoy exploring if he survived this immediate crisis. A realm where evolution pushed boundaries, where creatures like this three-headed monstrosity could develop and thrive. How far could he evolve in a place like that? How strong could he become?

And with his evolution system—yes, the system, he had a system, why could he remember that now?—Byung established that he could gain abilities from intimate contact with different species.

It had happened with Maui, giving him enhanced strength and combat instincts. It had happened with Lira—who was Lira? The memory wouldn’t clarify—giving him something else he couldn’t quite recall. So logically, all he needed was to properly connect with an elf to gain access to magic, to complete another step in his evolutionary journey.

He was a creature that constantly evolved, that grew stronger through specific triggers and experiences. That was his nature, his purpose, perhaps even his destiny.

That knowledge settled into his bones with absolute certainty even if the specific details remained frustratingly vague.

Byung knew he had to kill this creature before him. There was no negotiating with a three-headed dog the size of an elephant, no diplomatic solution to being hunted by a monster that existed purely to destroy threats.

But his combat assessment—some kind of internal system that he couldn’t fully access but clearly possessed—warned him with urgent clarity. There was no way in hell he stood a chance against it. Not directly, not in his current state with his armor still slowly working to restore his full capabilities.

The creature was too large, too powerful, too perfectly designed to kill exactly the kind of threats that Byung represented. Each of its three heads could attack independently, giving it coverage of three different angles simultaneously. Its massive body suggested strength that would make the human he’d killed earlier look weak by comparison.

A straight fight would end with Byung torn apart and scattered across the forest floor within minutes.

Which meant he needed to be smarter than the creature, faster, more cunning. He needed to use the environment, his smaller size, his returning tactical knowledge.

The three-headed dog circled him slowly, its six eyes tracking his every movement with unsettling coordination. Saliva dripped from its multiple mouths, sizzling slightly where it hit the ground—acidic or toxic. The creature made no sound, no growling or barking, which somehow made it more menacing.

Byung’s hand moved to his sword, the familiar weight of the weapon grounding him even as his mind raced through possibilities. His armor hummed faintly with whatever magic the dwarf had imbued it with, still working to counteract the prison’s effects.

He just needed to survive long enough for more of his capabilities to return. Just needed to stay alive while his memories solidified and his full strength came back online.

The creature’s muscles tensed, preparing to strike. All three heads oriented on him simultaneously, coordinating for a devastating first attack.

Byung settled into a combat stance that his body remembered even if his mind didn’t fully understand it yet. His smirk widened slightly, showing teeth that seemed sharper than they should be.

"Come on then," he heard himself say, his voice steady despite the overwhelming odds. "Let’s see what you’ve got."

The three-headed dog lunged forward with terrifying speed, and Byung’s enhanced reflexes threw him sideways barely in time to avoid the snapping jaws of the center head. The left head immediately compensated, trying to catch him in mid-dodge, but Byung twisted impossibly, his flexible body bending around the attack.

His sword flashed out, scoring a shallow cut across the dog’s front leg. The creature barely seemed to notice, its attention already shifting for the next strike. The right head came in from an unexpected angle, forcing Byung to dive forward and roll between the creature’s legs—dangerous territory, but the only direction not currently occupied by snapping jaws.

He came up running, putting distance between himself and the monster while his mind processed what he’d learned. The creature was fast but not as agile in close quarters due to its size. The three heads had a slight delay when coordinating against a single fast-moving opponent. And his sword could damage it, even if only superficially. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Those were advantages he could work with. Maybe not enough, but something.